Author: Genna Rivieccio

Genna Rivieccio is a Taurus. She enjoys pop culture, specifically all things 80s (it must have to do with the decadence). She is a writer most likely because she is a masochist and can't express herself verbally most of the time anyway due to a certain social malaise.
Poetry

Bitter Fruit From Suicide Trees* by David Estringel

Come, hear us now sing you songs  of truth (and woe)  ‘cross the seventh divide,  the salves and stirrers  of blood  and breasts  that ride the flaming cold  of void  and harpies’ breath, wrapping icy tongues ‘round gnarl and knot  of stiff, blackened fingertips. Take hold of hands (and ponderances upon lips) thorny in their grip  and snap the bones (How the warmth of flesh  brings longing  for days of Summer— a sweet ache) and … Continue reading Bitter Fruit From Suicide Trees* by David Estringel

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Poetry

Speed Dating at the Kama Sutra Rest Home and Bar by Charlie Robert

Yoga Class.Tights.Ass.Glad We GotOur Senior Pass.(Glad We BroughtSome Extra Cash)NamasteYou Stunning Thing.Let Me SeeYour Luscious Bling.Let Me BeYour Silver Fox.Your Downward Dog’sA Paradox.Still Your Breath.Strike A Pose.Decompress.Decompose.Take Your Time.Mind Your Pace.Your Maker’s OutIn Outer Space.Creating.X-Ray Ting.Speed Dating.At The Kama Sutra Rest HomeAnd Bar. Continue reading Speed Dating at the Kama Sutra Rest Home and Bar by Charlie Robert

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Poetry

Culling the Runts by Emilia Ferrante

culling the runts: the process by which one eliminates, when breeding snails in captivity,genetically weak offspring from a clutch of snails.the runts need to be culled, otherwise they suffer,in pain, their whole lives. this isn’t a metaphor:the runts, doomed, grow slower than the organs inside of themselves.that’s what a runt is: organs growing faster than a malformed shellevery two weeks for the first six weeks … Continue reading Culling the Runts by Emilia Ferrante

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Poetry

Invertebrate Musings by Emilia Ferrante

I want to talk about abyssal gigantism: the way animals in the deep sea take up more space, make themselves larger. It’s right there in the name: abyssal, meaning of the abyss, gigantism, meaning preternaturally large.  You probably know about the giant squid— I did too. But what I didn’t know was that the giant squid is just one of many enormous sea creatures. There’s the giant oarfish, the seven-arm octopus, and, to … Continue reading Invertebrate Musings by Emilia Ferrante

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Fiction

A New Sittin’ Up by Larry D. Thacker

I don’t know. Can you drink enough coffee to keep properly alert all night just staring at a fresh dead body? Listening for the slightest sound? That most delicate twitch of the lips. A finger twitch. We do it, but come morning, who can remember if they’ve managed to stay fully awake enough to do the job? There’s always that chance you’ve drifted off and … Continue reading A New Sittin’ Up by Larry D. Thacker

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Criticism, Essay

What Should You Do When You’re Accused of Plagiarizing But Don’t Really Feel That You Have Based on Your Own Set of Values?, Or: I Can’t Believe Plagiarism Is Incontrovertibly, Inarguably Objective!

Everyone always wants to speak from the outraged and victimized perspective of a person who has been plagiarized, never taking into account the perspective of the one accused. The following is coming from the latter standpoint. The people who believe what they believe (i.e., “plagiarism fundamentalists”) will not be convinced otherwise long enough to open their mind even a single iota about this. But still, … Continue reading What Should You Do When You’re Accused of Plagiarizing But Don’t Really Feel That You Have Based on Your Own Set of Values?, Or: I Can’t Believe Plagiarism Is Incontrovertibly, Inarguably Objective!

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Poetry

My Name Is… by Ihab Aziz

My name is Ihab,I speak English,Bahki 3arabi,Et je parle beaucoup français.Born in France,Fed Moroccan,Raised in between. My name is Ihab.Not IhAb, nor ILaD and certainly not Habib.I could show it to you,I could draw the Arabic letters on the board,The Alif, then the Ya,Right next to the Ha,The other Alif, and finally the Ba.Would it matter? I don’t know. My name is Ihab, but I … Continue reading My Name Is… by Ihab Aziz

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Poetry

Don’t Eat the Blowfish by Charlie Robert

Tastes like chicken but like everything else it’s not.The liver is Nagasaki.The lungs Hiroshima or Jesse James andDear Old Death comes to us all butthe quiver is fantastic.Like lips full of bees.Like a bucket of glue and no one but you.Hey Toshi! It’s Number One on the Hit Parade!Who cares that The Deal is about to go down the Crapper.Or that we may have to … Continue reading Don’t Eat the Blowfish by Charlie Robert

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Essay

One-Two Punch: American Fiction and The Other Black Girl Lampoon the Publishing Industry for Its Views on What a “Black” Book Is

Perhaps because so few people care about the publishing world outside of, well, the publishing world, there aren’t nearly enough “taking the ‘literature business’ to task” movies (instead, there are plenty of “taking the movie business to task” offerings [see: Sunset Boulevard, Singin’ in the Rain, The Player, Barton Fink, Adaptation, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Babylon, among others]). Though it could be quite a … Continue reading One-Two Punch: American Fiction and The Other Black Girl Lampoon the Publishing Industry for Its Views on What a “Black” Book Is

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Poetry

Otherwise by Dale Champlin

-for my husband I have climbed you like a flagpole       and left you at half-mast.I have run roughshod over you       then begged for more.I have cracked you like a safe       and looted all that I could carryI have cried on your shoulder       and hung you out to dry.You are Everest to my Mariana Trench,       a matchstick to my bonfire. I duck when you deluge       and squint when you shine.You mean the world … Continue reading Otherwise by Dale Champlin

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